Mirror's Edge
by Ceiphied Knight
Summary: Six Months of Rumbelle prompt fic! "Harry Potter crossover, sorta. Rumpelstiltskin stumbles onto the Mirror of Erised where he sees himself surrounded by Bae, Belle, and the little girl he and Belle would have had if he hadn't kicked her out. Extreme angst ensues."


**MIRROR'S EDGE**

_duskprincess111 prompted: Harry Potter crossover, sorta. Rumpelstiltskin stumbles onto the Mirror of Erised where he sees himself surrounded by Bae, Belle, and the little girl he and Belle would have had if he hadn't kicked her out. Extreme angst ensues._

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was rarely ever surprised. After three hundred years, he'd pretty much seen it all.

That is, until he stumbled upon a large, ornate mirror sitting alone in a crumbling cavern.

It's not what he'd been looking for. Not by a long shot. But he found himself drawn to the object. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, but he could sense a small amount of magic emanating from the mirror. Not enough to affect him, of course, but enough to tempt him to check things out.

He approached the mirror cautiously, and stood only close enough to read the inscription.

"erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"

Rumplestiltskin had definitely thought he'd seen everything. Until today.

The Dark One smoothed some invisible wrinkles out of his dragon hide coat as he drew even nearer to the object. The magic felt simple, but that didn't necessarily mean it was safe.

Finally, he stood before it and saw only his own reflection. Fears of Regina floated through his mind, since mirrors were her modus operandi, and he began to move away. As he turned slightly, though, he noticed a ripple in the surface of the mirror.

Suddenly, it was not his own reflection that Rumplestiltskin was seeing. At least, not the reflection he'd seen for over three hundred years.

He saw himself, human, with a bit more gray in his hair than he remembered having when he was changed. On his lap was a little girl, about four or five years old, with chestnut curls and big brown eyes.

His eyes.

Rumplestiltskin did not even realize that he was drawing closer to the image; but while seeing himself as human with a beautiful little girl was enough of a shock by itself, it was the other two people in the image who he could not help but fixate on.

Standing next to Rumplestiltskin, with a hand on his shoulder, was Bae. Bright, beautiful Bae. He looked just as he had at the age of fourteen, when the spinner had last seen his son. Time had not changed him in the least. Hazel eyes filled with mirth gazed down at the little girl being held by his father, and his smile could have lit up a room.

Flanking Rumplestiltskin's other side, crouched down to be level with the little girl, was Belle. The imp could feel the silent tears running down his face as he watched the scene. He drew even closer to the mirror.

Belle was smiling even more brightly than Bae, as she looked at her family. Rumplestiltskin wasn't quite sure how he knew, but it was as if the knowledge came naturally. He knew that he was seeing himself, cured of his curse, with his family. Belle was his wife and the little girl was their daughter. And of course there was Bae. They were together, as they should have always been, had he not been such a damn coward.

The Dark One paused for a moment and considered that. The one time he had been brave enough for his son was the time he obtained the dagger of the former Dark One. So, really, that hadn't turned out too well for everyone involved. But had it not been for that, for his curse, he had never lived long enough to meet Belle. So was there really such a thing as fate? Destiny?

He stared hard at the mirror, unable to tear his eyes away from the image of Belle. She looked the same as she had the morning he had driven her away from the Dark Castle. Long, beautiful curls that glowed auburn in the light. Eyes as blue as a summer sky. Her smile as honest and free as it had been when she'd kissed him by his spinning wheel.

Rumplestiltskin had no idea how long he'd stood there. He was only vaguely aware of the passage of time from the bits of sunlight filtering in through cracks in the cavern walls.

It may have been several days that he stood in the same spot, unable to look away from the scene in the mirror. The life he could have had if he hadn't rejected Belle. Because now, even if he found Bae in the land without magic, and even if his son hadn't aged a day, he could never be reunited with Belle. Belle was gone forever. She wasn't coming back. No magic could bring back True Love, and no magic could cure death. He would never again be able to hold her in his arm. He would never again be able to kiss her sweet lips that tasted, somehow, of gingerbread. And he would never, _never _be able to meet the beautiful little girl who had his eyes.

With a howl of rage and pain, Rumplestiltskin fell to his knees in front of the mirror. Because the mirror was a fucking liar, and was showing him something that could never even be possible.

Still, he remained for another several days.

"Son, I suggest you leave this place before you starve to death."

Rumplestiltskin didn't even look up at the voice of an older gentleman. In fact, he wasn't even surprised. After watching himself in a scene that wasn't possible for…well, he wasn't even sure how long he'd been there, the imp figured nothing would ever surprise him again.

"Don't need to eat," he replied, still not looking away from the image before him.

"Well, how convenient. That must save you a lot of valuable time."

Rumplestiltskin let out a sarcastic snort from the back of his throat. It was the closest he could get to laughter, considering the circumstances. He still couldn't look away from the mirror.

"Still," the old man continued, "there must be something you need to be doing. Besides wasting time in front of an illusion."

"My son," Rumplestiltskin found himself saying. "I'm nearly done. I'm so close. I need to find my son."

He felt strong but gentle hands on his arms, and allowed himself to be raised back up onto his feet. Still, he did not turn around.

"Then you need to get to it. Because whatever it is you're seeing in that mirror, it's not real. But your son is real, yes? I'm sure he needs you, and misses you. You need to leave this place."

Finally, the Dark One tore his eyes away from the mirror's addictive illusion and spun to face the man whose voice he heard.

He found himself still completely alone in an empty cavern. Just him and the mirror, as always.

Whether or not he was losing his mind was no matter. Now that he had finally been able to turn his back on the mirror, he had to keep moving.

He had to keep moving, because he had a curse to finish.


End file.
